


Eyes On the Ball

by skamsnake



Series: Giotino Drabbles [2]
Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Awkward situations, Canon Compliant, Gio POV, M/M, filler scene, fluff & friendship, jealous!Gio in the making, tiny bit unresolved sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-06 09:43:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16385621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skamsnake/pseuds/skamsnake
Summary: Gio has a hard time keeping his eye on the ball...





	Eyes On the Ball

**Author's Note:**

> So... I KNOOOW we’re all dying to see more Niccotino tomorrow and I ADORE them, but I also love Gio and I felt like we could use his perspective and thoughts on these little weird, cute (but also kind of hot) scenes that all feature different types of balls lol.
> 
> Hope you’ll enjoy <3

 

***

 

“You little shit!” Elia shouts as he spots Martino sitting on the old, worn couch at the lookout, the wide grin on his face revealing he’s not actually angry. Not really.

“ _I’m_ the little shit?!” Martino barks back, and even though he’s smiling, Gio can tell somethings up.

Martino looks tired in a way Gio hasn’t seen in a while. Not since his dad left. And suddenly Gio feels ashamed that he was even the slightest bit annoyed at him for ghosting them at friday’s party.

They’re supposed to be _best_ friends after all. They’re supposed to be able to tell each other _everything_ , and still it seems like Marti’s holding back. Like he’s not letting Gio in these days.

_He just misses him is all._

And it’s not only the ghosting. Martino hasn’t been himself these last couple of weeks. Like the last time Gio had slept over and he was acting weird, sleeping on the floor when the bed was perfectly big enough for the both of them or insisting on leaving his room to let Gio get dressed after a quick shower. The way his gaze was lingering just a tiny bit, like he was uncomfortable seeing Gio wearing his own underwear.

If he’s honest with himself, Gio might have an idea as to why. As much as he tries not to, he can’t _not_ notice how Martino had looked at him sometimes in the past, can’t _not_ notice how Martino melts into his touch when they hug.

And if he’s _completely_ honest, it’s not like he doesn’t know who made sure he found out about Eva and Fede. It had been too obvious, even if Eva had insisted it wasn’t Martino who had fucked things up between them. She was right of course, they had been perfectly capable of fucking things up between them entirely on their own.

So while some might say Martino had been a shitty friend, really _he_ is the one who’s the world’s worst best friend. At least he feels like it whenever he sees the dark circles under Martino’s eyes, the deep frown across his face in class as he stares into nothing. Because through everything, Martino has never made him feel anything but good. Never made him feel anything but accepted. Didn’t judge his escalating Tinder escapades or his increasing need to go out on long benders. Just provided him with a place to crash when he was too drunk to go home and a shoulder to cry on in the early mornings when he missed Eva. Or just _someone_.

Martino isn’t just _someone_ , Gio knows this. And he doesn’t want to take advantage of his friend, doesn’t want to lead him on. It just feels so nice to be cared for, to feel attended to.

_And recently there’s been less of that._

In fact, Martino has seemed more than distracted these last few weeks, like something has happened that he isn’t telling Gio, and to be frank he’s not a fan. Martino had always told him everything, at least it seemed like it. And now it feels like he’s keeping secrets from him.

Like, how he had seemed so distracted after his talk with Sana in class the other day that he didn’t even look at Gio when he came inside to pick him up, just kept looking out the window absentmindedly or kept glancing over his shoulder as they walked through the school halls. Like he was searching for something, someone. Gio had tried to calm him down, tried to convince him not to be paranoid about the weed, but Martino just shrugged and went silent.

Gio didn’t worry too much though, not until friday when Martino had stopped answering his calls entirely. Ignoring Elia’s obnoxious texts he could understand, but his best friend? Gio texts, his calls? For a moment he’d wondered if Marti was with Eva. If that was the reason he was ignoring him.

“It’s just that a mess happened yesterday” Martino says, looking up at Gio apologetically, putting all his thoughts to shame. He feels an ache in his chest.

“Like what?” Elia asks, his smile also faltering a bit at the sudden serious expression on Marti’s face.

“My mom...“ Martino hesitates, and all Gio wants to do is hug his friend, but he can’t “...got mad and I freaked out, but then I got mad too”

Gio knows Martino’s family well enough not to ask more questions and his heart fills with guilt. He hates that he has to look away, that he can barely look at his friend when he needs him the most.

“And when it’s like this I get anxious and I don’t want to see anyone-“

“It’s okay bro, we understand” he interrupts Martino, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly. Hoping it’s enough to let him know that he loves him, that he’s there for him even if it hadn’t seemed like he was.

_I’ve got you. Always._

They lock eyes for a moment, a silent understanding between them, then Martino takes a deep breath.

“What about the Argentinian?” he asks, trying to deflate the tension and Gio does the only thing he knows how to in situations like these. _Talk_. Babbling about the party, about the Argentinian and Elia’s disastrous attempt to impress her, and they all laugh in silent agreement that they’re done talking. At least about the things that matter.

 _“_...but now it’s time for your punishment” Elia grins, still holding the ball firmly in his hands, “you need our forgiveness don’t you?” he continues, and Gio has to gather significant strength to not punch him in the face. Still, he knows Elia only means well. And obviously Martino knows too.

“You’re assholes” he mutters as he lines up in front of the tree like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Hands up!” Elia shouts, and Martino places both arms on the tree trunk and leans in, one foot slightly in front of the other.

The position, in fact the whole situation, is kind of obscene and for a fraction of a second, Gio lets himself look at his friend. Like, _really_ look. At the soft, sunkissed auburn head of hair that sometimes reminds him of Eva’s, now buried between slender arms. The line of muscle flexing there, reminding him that Martino’s no longer the kid he grew up with. He’s a _man_ now. At the teal blue t-shirt this man is wearing, and the way it smoothes over his shoulders and rides up a bit as he bends over slightly. His back, broad and strong, arching a tiny bit as he sticks out his butt to ward off the force of the blow. Gio knows a nice ass when he sees it, alright. And admittedly Martino’s _is_ nice considering how many times he’s kicked it in FIFA. The way his jeans hug his hips perfectly, the full round of his cheeks, the-

“Ow!” Martino exclaims as Elia hits him with the ball, and it feels like Gio’s taken a punch himself.

Gio fights the urge to readjust himself as Martino turns around, rubbing the sore spot on his back where the ball hit him, still smiling.

“Fuck you”

 

***

 

“Let’s go, we’re gonna make it to the fifth” Elia says, just before they win yet another table soccer match.

They’re losing the game, but Gio doesn’t mind. In fact, he’s happy. They’re all together and Martino’s smiling again.

“Down, down, down!” Elia and Luchino chants, maintaining their right to humiliate their losing opponents, and he catches Martino’s gaze on him out of the corner of his eye.

“After you, dear” Martino says, smiling that warm smile that lights up the entire room and heats up Gio’s cheeks in the proces.

“No you first, sir” he teases back.

“Come on, guys, don’t fight. Just do it together!” Luchino suggests, and before he knows it they’re both under the table.

Gio feels Martino’s hip brush against his as they crawl under on their hands and knees, and although he’d never admit it, for a moment Gio wishes he could stop time. Just play back the moment a few times. Or even just once.

“Excuse me, guys” Martino says, looking up at the bar, and Gio can tell he’s lost in thought again.

“Where are you going?”

 

***

 

_Don’t stare._

He’s trying to act casual, he really is. But volleygirls in tighty-whitey’s and knee highs? What is he, dead?

And yes, maybe it’s a little over the top when Luchino and Elia burst out in loud cheers, howling at the Argentinian like a pack of wolves, but really who can blame them?

Apparently, Mr. Boccia can it seems, as he walks up to them, questioning their intentions and their love for an innocent game of volleyball.

“Are you kidding, coach? It’s our favorite sport… to watch!” Luchino jokes, and coach Boccia is clearly _not_ impressed.

“You’re basically pudding yourself. Athletic girls like fit men” he mocks back and pats Gio on the belly before heading back to the game, and Gio can’t help but laugh.

“Guys, he should get reported” Martino says lowly.

“Who, Mr. Boccia?” Gio laughs, but Martino doesn’t say anything to correct the misunderstanding. “What are you saying?” he says, trying to give Martino an out.

“He comes here, he shakes his butt, he touches your stomach…”

_Marti. Come on._

“So what, what’s the problem?”

“Didn’t he touch you?” Martino asks, and Gio can feel himself boiling over with anger mixed with confusion and a tiny bit of pity. Marti’s not being himself, this is not his best friend speaking.

_Don’t be like that, Marti._

“Marti, it’s Mr. Boccia?! We watch Rome’s football matches together, we even know his boyfriend, what the fuck are you saying? What’s the problem?!”

 _“_ Bro, ok, calm down” Martino backtracks, but Gio can’t let it go just like that.

“I’m super calm!” Gio continues, his voice anything but calm. “You’re the one who’s always-

_Distracted. Distant._

“...cranky, nowadays!” and Gio simultaneously wants to punch him and hug him as he sees the hurt in Martino’s eyes. He can barely look at him, and he knows it’s not fair, knows Martino is struggling with something these days himself.

“What the fuck are you saying?” he raises his voice, and Gio senses a slight tremble in there somewhere.

“Do whatever you want” Gio pushes at him and redirects his attention back out at the girls, pretending not to care to avoid what he should really be paying attention to. Who he should really care about.

“Ciao!” a guy walks up in front of them, and Martino freezes next to him.

Gio’s seen him a couple of times before in school, but he’s pretty sure he’s never seen him talk to Marti before.

The guy stops in front of Martino, and Gio doesn’t miss the not so subtle elevator glance they both perform. And okay, admittedly you don’t have to be gay to see this guy is _gorgeous_. He glances at Gio for a moment before continuing.

“I was looking for you, you forgot these on friday evening” he throws a pair of white earphones at Martino before catching eye contact with Gio again, almost like it’s Gio he’s telling it to and he can practically _hear_ Martino swallow hard next to him.

_Who the fuck is this guy?_

Gio feels a heat spread in his chest as he looks between his best friend and this guy. This guy, who keeps stealing looks at him, like he knows Martino isn’t just anyone to him, like he knows how this new information is burning inside him.

_Where the fuck where you friday, Marti? When you didn’t care to answer my calls. My texts._

“On the bus, they’re yours right?” the guy tries, and Gio nods silently.

He doesn’t mean to come off as hostile, but it isn’t exactly friendly either. The guy touches his lip nervously, and Gio is smirking inwardly at the effect his presence seems to have on him.

“They’re _mine_ actually” _just like Marti_ “but thank you” he replies quickly, not really looking at the guy standing in front of him, and as the guy leaves Gio senses a small smile on Martino’s lips. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s the most genuine smile he’s seen on him for weeks.

“Friday evening, when you were with your mom?” Elia asks suspiciously, and Gio looks down.

“Yeah, I was on the bus.. with my mom” Martino tries, convincing absolutely no one, and things are starting to make sense.

_On the bus, my ass._

The sudden loud thud of a volleyball hitting Luchino in the face is funny enough to ease some of the tension, and Gio can feel Martino welcoming the distraction with a laugh of relief. Luchino is joined in applause by Mr. Boccia from across the room.

“Good job, good job!”

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And please let me know your thoughts in the comment section - maybe along with wishes and prompts for tomorrow's friday clip follow-up drabble? (maybe Nicco’s POV? Some parallel AU where they're not interrupted?? Some Marti-after-scene solo smut?? huehuehueeee)


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